Shall we declare this day a day of rest
And set aside our brooms and tools or plows
To taste in full the little wind that blows
Through lilac bloom and pastures newly dressed?
Then will we pause to touch those fingertips
Unfurling green in vast and sundry hues
Or savor purples, pinks and golden-blues
Spilling garrulously from nature’s lips?
Or shall we carry on and strive instead
To drink the cup of blessing midst our toil
Praising the God who nurtures soul and soil
For if we dance then who will buy our bread?
© Janet Martin